Extraordinary Ordinary

Tag Archives: Telemarketers

Lately, I’ve been inundated by phone calls. I must be very popular — far more so than when I was in high school.

Some callers vibrate with the enthusiasm of an over-caffeinated game show host. I’ve won cruises, resort stays, free lunches at a funeral home! If I promise to die soon.

I also receive helpful calls from Tibetan yak milkers named Paul: “Your com-pu-ter sick. Do what I say.”

Goodbye, Paul.

When a caller uses impressive cyber vocabulary, I apply my husband’s astute observation: we can’t reach IT when we need them. Now they’re calling us out of the goodness of their hearts?

Charity calls often are made by ladies who sound like my third-grade teacher. I’m so sorry, Mrs. Daugherty. But, unlike Congress, Hubby and I stay within our budget.

Other callers sound like Al Capone. Because I’ve hidden huge assets from the government, the IRS has custom-designed cement shoes for me. Unless I grant immediate access to my bank accounts, I will take up residence at the bottom of Lake Michigan.

So far, I haven’t had to develop gills.

Occasionally, though, I experience shortness of breath when asked to take “two-minute surveys” that morph into interrogations.

The worst part? They never want to take mine.

This year, my birthday generated a gazillion new phone fans: Medicare supplement companies. Some representatives get right to the point: “Are you breathing?”

O my God, You know I hate telemarketer pitches about the joys of Medicare supplements or trips I’ve won to Bongo Bongo. I answered the latest “How are you, ma’am?” with an icy “I’m busy.” She hung up on me! But OMG, maybe now I know how telemarketers feel?